The Forest of Bowland is a sensational place, a quite glorious area of stunning natural beauty.
It is overwhelmingly poetic – the whole place.
Pure, long gorgeous spaces of gold and brown. Tall towers of light, penetrating the soil and heading to the sky, vibrating the brown earth and shaking us to our core. The turkeys, stalking the landscape with their round eyes surveying all lying in front of them, give the whole place a sense of true foreboding.
The strange knocks in the night. The creaks and calls of the beasts and the birds, out in the deep darkness. Deep, inducing darkness. Deep, painful darkness. Deep, murderous darkness. Murdering unity, connection and safety. A darkness from which you may well never return or, at least, not return from the same…
It’s beautiful! Lovely!
I’m such a big fan of the Forest of Bowland that I live here and even when I go on holiday I stay inside the Forest of Bowland!
I go straight to Bowland Fell Park’s Yorkshire Caravans and just have a bloody good Bowland time. I wouldn’t leave Bowland, no way, no bloody way. There’s something so supple about the earth here, I just can’t bear to stand on any other earth. And when staying in a caravan you get a true sense of what it would have been like to be one of the first people to enter these incredible lands and make their base here. To truly aim to strive and succeed in this most beautiful of places.